


Those hands of his

by weirdlittlecookie



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Danny's POV, First Kiss, First Time, Frottage, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-24
Updated: 2015-02-24
Packaged: 2018-03-14 20:35:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3424721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weirdlittlecookie/pseuds/weirdlittlecookie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Danny goes over to Steve's after seeing dreams that make his palms sweat. He's been fine keeping his feelings to himself but some days are harder than others. Pun intended.</p><p>Ficlet inspired by a tumblr post: "Can we pretend that Danny said Steve's name instead of Reyes while napping"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Those hands of his

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shotgunwithwings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shotgunwithwings/gifts).



Hypnagogia. A state between sleep and awake where one gains awareness but is not entirely in control. That's how Danny likes to think about it, anyway. Because this not-being-able-to-meet-Steve's-eyes shit is pretty pathetic, even if he says so himself. And all because of a dream. A very graphic, sweaty, overwhelming dream he hopes to forget and grasp onto like dear life. 

At the moment he's leaning toward the former as he watches Steve surface from the water like goddamn James Bond and _he did not just compare himself to Eva Green_.

He should have said no when Steve invited him over to watch the game, blamed stomach flu or something. That he'd stopped following the sport. All sports for that matter. That he had found enlightenment which would take him to a monastery far away from Steve's pecks and arms and those hands of his... He goes back inside the house to grab beers for the two of them, hoping the cool liquid will distract him from other pressing matters. 

"Hey man," Steve says when steps in, his face light up like Christmas, "Sorry I wasn't here to open the door."

Danny rolls his eyes, "Like I don't know where you keep the spare. And for the millionth time, you have to keep it somewhere else besides under the welcome mat, seriously how have you not learn that after all these years?"

Steve keeps grinning and picks up the beer from the counter, "Maybe in another year or two. There's game snacks in the fridge, I won't be long." And just like that Steve has disappeared to take a shower, leaving Danny alone with hot wings and his hyperactive imagination. Shit. 

He settles on the couch, turns on the tv and lays his head back against the cushions. If he doesn't get this... this dream thing under control bad, horrible things are going to happen. The kind where he ends up mauling his best friend and walking straight to the ocean afterwards.

Maybe running through the dream could get it out of his system sooner, bring their status quo back to where Steve flexes his ridiculous muscles without Danny tripping all over his tongue. Danny closes his eyes and concentrates, trying to find the beginning. He's not entirely sure if there is one. He doesn't remember how it begun, whether the want had come before or after love. It is love, he recognises the feeling, the calm it brings with it. He wants the best for Steve. Even if he never gets to say those words to him himself, he can live with it. At least on most days. Today doesn't seem to be one of those days though as his mind wanders down Steve's body, his fingers tracing every scar and planting kisses along them. Steve is beautiful, he always is. Happy, angry, sad, broken, it always takes Danny's breath away. 

He imagines teeth grazing against him skin, travel up his neck and bite down gently. Steve's hands are everywhere at once, squeezing, grabbing and pulling, leaving welcome bruises and make him cry for more. A single word leaves his lips, quiet and desperate, "Steve."

The gasp he hears makes his eyes snap open in an instant. A cold shiver passes through his entire body and settles in the pit of his stomach. Steve stands by the doorway, hair wet and shirt still sticking to his skin. Shit shit _shit_. 

"You, uh... We're you..?" Steve stumbles over the sentence, waving his hand in Danny's direction while keeping his eyes glued to Danny shoes like they've turned impossibly interesting.

"No," Danny croaks, "God no!" The way his heart hammers he figures he's well on his way to a full-blown panic attack. Danny leans forward, elbows on his knees and his face hid in his hands. He takes a deep breath, then another. 

"I'm sorry." He says, all other words getting stuck in his throat. The one thing he was supposed to avoid, the one thing he had decided not to burden Steve with, and he'd fucked it up. Like the goddamned idiot he is. 

Steve stays completely silent and that just says it all. Danny is going to move, he swears he is, as soon as he can feel his legs again. He is vaguely aware of someone moving closer, sitting across him to what must be the coffee table. Did Steve have one? He must have, he just cannot seem to remember at the moment. His hands are pried away from his face and he knows if he could look up he would meet Steve's eyes round with worry but he can't. Not until he's confessed to the rest of it, seeming as there's no point pretending any more. 

"I've been in love with you for awhile," Danny starts, "Don't know exactly how long. I... I'm so fucking sorry. I never meant to drop all this on you. I don't blame you for it, any of it. And... and if you need me to transfer I totally get that." He doesn't mean his voice to break in the end but it does. Danny squeezes his eyes tightly shut, determined to will the tears back. The hands holding his wrists loosen their grip, move over to the sides of his face, bringing his chin up.

"Danny can you please look at me." Steve doesn't sounds angry, it's soft and understanding and it makes him feel even worse. Danny really wants to keep his eyes shut but he thinks he owes Steve that much. He opens his eyes, blinking to adjust to the bright light, finding Steve looking back at him solemnly. Danny steels himself, nodding his head minutely in Steve's hold to show he's ready. Steve nods back, taking a deep breath before he says, "You big idiot."

"I know, I know, I agree with you for once, and don't let that go to your head," Danny starts babbling, only to be stopped by Steve again.

"No you duoofus, I love you too. Hence why you're a big fucking idiot."

"Wh...What?" Danny isn't sure what his face is doing. Could be confusion, could be or constipation. 

Steve moves even closer, so close it's hard to focus on his features. "I. Love. You. Too. You. Big. Idiot."

Then there are lips slanting against his, warm and salty and urgent. Danny's hands reach out to grab the first thing they can reach, landing on Steve's arms, gripping tight. Steve moves forward, never breaking the kiss but instead he dives deeper as he sidles to Danny's lap, humming in appreciation as his tongue meets Danny's.

Danny moves his hands over Steve's shoulders, down his spine, under the shirt. His skin still feels damp, the smell of ocean ever-present, seemingly ingrained into the very essence of Steve. Danny bites his lower lip, needing to taste as much of him as he can, and nearly chokes when Steve rolls hips forward and down. 

"Christ you can't do that or I'm going to come like a damn teenager." Danny groans, gripping Steve's hips with white knuckles. 

Steve grins against his lips, licking across them once as he repeats the motion, "Maybe I want to see you loose control."

Danny thinks his eyes might roll back in his head when Steve begins to ride his lap in a painfully slow rhythm, his hands locking in Danny's hair and waist. They mesh their mouths together, breaking momentarily for air. Their hands roam over arms, pecks, waists, ass, necks, hair. When Danny slips his hands under Steve's shorts, squeezing the toned ass, Steve's grip of his hair tightens and his thrusts turn harder.

Danny knows he won't last long, not with the way Steve's driving him over, and he latches onto Steve's shoulder. He bites, sucks and licks and it's not long till Steve gaps above him, his hips stuttering, hips coming down ruthlessly and Danny looses it. His back arches, hips trying to lift up the couch with no success as Steve rides them through the after wave. His head comes to rest on Danny's shoulder, damp breaths tickling the sensitive skin.

Danny's heart rate is mostly normal when Steve raises his head and gives him the biggest, goofiest smile in his collection. 

Oh. _Oh_.

"Is that what that smile is for? For you, uh, loving me too?"

Steve's grin widens and Danny sputters, "You mean we could've been doing this the whole time?"

Steve leans in and pecks Danny's lips. "Like I said. You. Big. Idiot."


End file.
